To Mend A Heart
by nightchildx
Summary: A porcelain ballerina is bestowed the gift of life after losing her beloved, and begins a new career in the Land Without Color under the employ of Rumplestiltskin, but being a pawn in the evil imp's schemes push the naive girl to a life of blood and vengeance. Based loosely on The Brave Tin Soldier by Hans Christian Anderson. Please review!


**Title: To Mend A Heart**

**Rating: T for some violence and language.**

**Summary: A porcelain ballerina is bestowed the gift of life after losing her beloved, and begins a new career in the Land Without Color under the employ of Rumplestiltskin, but being a pawn in the evil imp's schemes push the naive girl to a life of blood and vengeance. Based loosely on The Brave Tin Soldier by Hans Christian Anderson. Please review!**

**Prologue**

The oil lantern was burning low. The flaming wick flickered and grew ever smaller, casting dancing shadows on the walls of cluttered cottage. The old man was used to working in such poor lighting, but soon he would have to start up the fireplace if he were to finish his project that night.

Before him in perfectly aligned rows, stood his little army of tin soldiers. Firmly they stood, proud and pristine in their painted uniforms, no more than four inches tall. On the very end of the final row was an empty spot, reserved for their last brother in arms, for they were all made from the same lump of tin.

They were the old man's pride and joy. Though he loved all his creations very dearly, he loved none more than the unfinished soldier he now held in his gnarled hands. To him, this tiny warrior would be the final piece of his legacy, for he had no family left alive, and could only find solace in his work.

At long last, when the hour drew just minutes from midnight, the soldier was complete. A tender tear fell from the old man's eyes and splashed gently on to the soldier's red-painted chest. But before the old man could wipe it away, the soldier had absorbed the tear into his very core, where a small light formed and began to pulse softly.

The old man watched in awe as the light faded away and the tin soldier began to twitch in his palm. The soldier blinked twice and stood erect with a wide smile, and offered a salute to the man he immediately recognized as his superior.

"It is good to finally meet you, sir!" He chirped merrily, his hand still resting on his brow. "I've been waiting for a long time."

Beneath his beard, the old man's lips stretched into the happiest smile he'd had in many, many years. He laughed in wonder at the miracle before him, and continued to laugh so heartily that a sharp pain began to ebb in the center of his chest. The laughter turned to a strained wheezing, and the man collapsed to the floor, sending the tin soldier crashing down as well.

The soldier felt no pain, but upon his attempt to stand, noticed that something was terribly wrong. Looking down, he was shocked to discover his right leg was no longer attached to the rest of him and grew terribly distraught.

"Sir! Sir! I have been wounded!" he cried out.

But the old man did not answer. He now lay utterly still, and made no sound. Realizing his creator's fate, the soldier bowed his head in reverence, and could do no more.

By morning light, the soldier had begun to explore the cottage, though his lack of a leg did not affect his mobility by much. He scaled the cabinets and shelves and camped out amongst the other toys, but still he felt very lonesome.

He stared at the fireplace, still crackling with flame long after it should have lasted, but the soldier knew not of the danger it posed to a man made of tin. His gaze moved up to the stone mantle where a lone figure stood gracefully poised on a cylindrical pedestal.

"Tis a lady." He said aloud. "Tis a very lovely lady indeed. She is far too beautiful for a crippled soldier such as myself, but I must make her acquaintance."

He hobbled across the room and approached the fireplace. The climb would be a daunting task, but the intrepid tin soldier knew no fear. For nigh an hour he climbed the stone wall to the top, nearly collapsing in exhaustion. But his journey was not yet over.

He approached the porcelain lady with a sweeping bow. "My lady, you are truly a sight. Your elegance has bewitched me from afar, and I have come to express my affections for you."

The lady stood on pointed toes with her head held high, yet there was a sweetness in her delicate face that made her seem so warm and kind.

"Would you care to dance, m'lady?" He took her hand in his and leaned to kiss it gently.

The soldier walked around her to the silver peg jutting out the side of her pedestal. With a few turns, a tinkling melody began to play as the pedestal spun slowly. With some difficulty, he climbed up to meet her and held her still form as if they were waltzing.

Deep in his chest, the absorbed tear began to glow once again as he looked straight into her eyes and said ever so softly. "I am so very in love with you."

The spinning slowed to a snail's pace, then stopped all together along with the twinkling music. The tin soldier suddenly felt the lovely dancer's hand gently close around his, and the other arm draw in in closer.

When he look at her face once more, there was a smile now gracing it.

"And I, you." She said with a voice so clear and sweet.

Overjoyed, the soldier embraced her. "We shall run away together! We will be married, and I will build us a house, and you will have a grand garden full of the most beautiful flowers, for anything made by your hand would be a reflection of you!"

"But my love," she said sadly. "I am bound to my music box! I cannot move my feet." It was true, for her feet were still in their pointed position from which they had been made.

"Then I will find the tools to remove you safely from your pedestal and we shall live out our days together." He declared. "I will return shortly."

He turned abruptly and in his excitement, lost his balance and toppled over the edge of the mantle, for the music box had been placed far too close to the ledge.

The ballerina shrieked in dismay, fearing the worst. "My love! My dear tin soldier, what has befallen you?"

But just as the old man had not responded to the soldier's cries, the soldier did not respond to hers.

The poor girl wept for hours, and long into the night, wishing to throw herself from the very same ledge until a bright light flew into the cottage and settled into the shape of winged woman in a blue dress.

The Blue Fairy approached the distraught ballerina with a kind smile. "My poor child, I have heard your cries and I am deeply touched. What is it I may do to ease your pain?"

"I want nothing more than to be with my dear soldier, but he is dead from the fall." She said between tears.

"I cannot send you to your own demise, but perhaps I can take very memory of your loss so you may start life anew." The Blue Fairy offered. "Will you accept this?"

"I- I will forget him completely?" She stammered. "It would be better if I returned to my motionless state."

"Your sentience was brought on by pure love, something not even my magic can erase. Your tin soldier would not want you to remain in misery, alone and unable to move for eternity. This I can be sure of."

Forgetting him seemed like a betrayal to her, yet she dreaded the agony of mourning her loved one forever. The choice would not be easy, but she knew the Blue Fairy was right. She could not remain in the cottage forever.

"I accept your offer." She said solemnly. "But what will become of me when my memory is gone?"

"You will be in my care. I will give you clear instructions once I have altered your memory. Now hold very still dearie, and close your eyes."


End file.
